A Place with No Mirrors
by Phillippa of the Phoenix
Summary: A girl hides herself away in an enchanted castle. A man knows every story there is to tell. A beast who is not quite a man is coming home. A family is falling apart. Beauty and the Beast gets the poetic treatment.
1. Merzale: Flame

Well, here I am with another story, this one completely poetry. I should've known it wouldn't be long until I posted poetry here. It's in my blood, like plasma . . . only not clear, yellowish or . . . anything that plasma is. Anyways.

I looked around and tried to find a chaptered story made of poems, so I could take my cue from what they did, but never did . . . so sorry if this isn't the way it should be done. (shurgs)

Phillippa signing off!

Merzale: Flame

all I remember is the flame  
hot, on my face, was I to blame  
screams echoed through me  
you can't get to me  
I hide behind a mask  
please, I beg, don't ask  
sometimes I wonder, was I to blame  
I am an orphan because of the flame

my life has been affected by the flame  
lonely in my heart, was I to blame  
whispers echo through me  
you can't get to me  
I hide in my room  
ashamed of my doom  
sometimes I wonder, was I to blame  
I am always alone because of the flame

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	2. Tousle: Explanation and Advice

Thanks to. . .

Sasami - thanks! (It would be nice if you said something I could respond to. I feel sort of stupid just saying 'thanks!' But you don't _have _to. . .)

Metaphorical - I am honored that you chose to read and review, then! You became a . . . phan? (confused look) Please tell me what you mean.

Aerinha - If rhyme scheme is something that interests you, I'd like to point out that each character (poet?) has their own rhyme scheme, which is the same each time, except the Beast, because he's not full human, or something like that. Which  
I think is nifty.

In this poem, I do not own the name Tousle. It is the name of a character in Gary D. Schmidt's book, Straw into Gold. It rocks. The name, I mean. But the book rocks, too.

Tousle: Explanation/Advice

she's the odd one  
the isolated one  
the one on her own  
living up a ways  
through these woods  
in an old abandoned home  
some say it a castle  
all covered with vines  
but I've never been  
when she was young  
she lost both her parents  
and took flight as a wren  
she used to be one of us  
she could've been  
one of us, true  
but she chose the life  
she's livin' now  
so leave her alone, you

As to who Tousle is, and who he's talking to, you'll find out. . .eventually.

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	3. Beast: A Blushing Rose

Thanks to . . .

Metaphorical - I watched a version of the Phantom of the Opera once, but it was such a long time ago, I remember nothing except the basic plotline. So, you are addicted to the newest version? I have not heard a lot about it. I am a definite fan of musicals. What is it like?  
Somehow, my writing always gets better as time goes by.

Miss Piratess - Merzale's poems are almost always sad or have a slight underlining of sadness. She's had a hard life, you know. And you got a peice of Tousle down, but I won't tell you what (sticks out tongue in an annoying, immature way)

The idea of the rose is, I think, from the Disney version. Is that right? Anyway, not mine.

Beast: A Blushing Rose

the rose, of all the flowers, is perfect  
in its texture, shape, and color  
sometimes I stop and reflect  
why the fairy chose not a duller  
flower to watch over my days  
why not choose clover  
or one simpler in its ways

the rose, of all the flowers, is a trick  
in its beauty, color, and thorns  
the flower that pricks you as you pick  
the only flower that warns

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	4. Mother: The Wood, Part 1

Thanks to . . .

Metaphorical - What musicals do I like? Guys and Dolls, Oklahoma, Sound of Music, Seven Brides for Seven Brothers, King and I, Chitty Chitty Bang Bang (guilty pleasure), Cinderella, Neptune's Daughter, Fiddler on the Roof, Flower Drum Song, Girl Most Likely (another guilty pleasure, plotless and silly), Harvey Girls, Wizard of Oz . . . are you asleep yet? Thanks for saying I'm intriging. My friends just tell me I'm weird.

Miss Piratess - I feel like I should have a lot to say to you, since you are half of my reviewers. But I'm feeling quite dead. Say, do you know an insult that's rather generic and sounds good in a "fairy tale time" setting?

It's sad that only you two read this. Must be the poetry's scaring everyone else off. Look, guys, if you're reading this and aren't reviewing, could you? I promise not to embarrass you _too _much.

Let's see . . . do I need a disclaimer this time? Ah, yes. The idea of mothers telling their children about the beast came from Beauty by Robin McKinley. It is not mine.

Without further ado!

Mother: The Wood, Part 1

beware the wood, children  
beware the wood!  
there be monsters of all sorts  
horrible, terrible, claws and teeth  
beware the wood!

stay out of the wood, children  
stay out of the wood!  
there be mosters from every port  
terrible, horrible, they hear you breath  
stay out of the wood!

heed the wood, children  
heed the wood!  
there be monsters behind every tree  
teeth and claws, hideously tall  
heed the wood!

beware the wood, children  
beware the wood!  
there be monsters who will eat thee  
they snack on those who're small  
beware the wood!

Not exactly my best, is it?

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	5. Merzale: Garden

Okay, the last chapter was not as good as usual, but was it so horrible that you couldn't even honor it with a review? It really doesn't bother me when I don't get that many reviews, but when I know people are reading this story and I get none, it makes me rather upset. I promised I wouldn't embarrass you, but you lost your chance! Miss Piratess! Aerinha! Metaphorical! Why didn't you review? (takes deep, calming breath) All right, I forgive you. But review this time, just for me.

This time, I own everything. Boo-yah.

Fa la la la la la - here it is!

Merzale: Garden

the garden is like a balm on my hurt  
the scent of flowers, sunshine and dirt  
to watch the sun come shining down  
and see welcome rain fall on thirsty grounf  
I feel no need to hide here; here I belong  
all feels right here; nothing could go wrong  
as I watch the flowers push through the dirt  
the garden is like balm on my hurt

the garden is like ointment for my pain  
one with nature, I dance in the rain  
and watch the dark clouds cover the sky  
and see them leave again, by and by  
I feel no need to disappear; here I blend  
I feel the ripped seems begin to mend  
as I grow like a flower in the rain  
the garden is like ointment for my pain

A happy poem, just to keep you guessing. (sigh) I do love gardens.

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	6. Tousle: Scars

Phillippa here! Thanks, my lovelies, for reviewing this time (wink.) I think some sort of glitch happened the same day I updated that, or something . . . oh well. To you two:

Metaphorical - I got the Phantom of the Opera soundtrack for my birthday, and am now addicted to that. Does that make me a quasiphan, or what?

Miss Piratess - I love the garden as well. My mom's is just massive - like most of the yard! - and I find peace there myself, sometimes. It's funny that you said you liked 'The Wood,' because I really kind of hate it. (At first, I thought that the reason neither of you reviewed was because you read it and thought, "Well, that's rotten," and didn't review.)

With absolutely no more gilding of lilies!

* * *

Tousle: Scars 

her parents were gentlefolk  
and respected 'round this parish  
but she hardly knew them  
they died when she was young  
(the tender age of five)  
never said "bye" to them  
after that, she traveled  
from house to house to house  
they all said, "She's a beast."  
it may have been true  
I'm not sure milord  
I'm only a beggar at the feast  
she could've been of such value  
I'm not sure why she left  
though she had a few nasty scars  
I think what hurt her most was  
the scars on the inside of her heart  
she may have joined the stars

* * *

A little more into Tousle's character and why he's saying this, which might make you happy. Any guesses? 

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	7. Beast: Dark Days

So, I assume, Miss Piratess, that you are on vacation or something . . . or whatever. Because you're usually pretty good about reviewing this one . . . oh well.

Thanks to my wonderful, fantabulous, lonely reviewer . . .

Metaphorical - Favorite song? I don't know . . . probably a tie between Masquarade, All I Ask of You and the one song they play with the credits. But Prima Donna and Think of Me are good too. And The Music of the Night. And the Phantom of the Opera. Okay, so really, I like them all, even though I think the soundtrack must be missing some, because it doesn't have the song, "Point of No Return." (bites lip) I should probably get around to actually watching the movie.

With positively no more ado!

Beast: Dark Days

the fairy told me that night  
"I have brought you to the light  
when people hear of your plight  
they will quickly take flight  
and come to help, with might  
as such you've never seen the sight  
but beware, o prince, of your bite  
I have brought you to the light  
but you are still friendly with the night."  
and what the fairy said was true  
I still prefer dimmest black to blue

So, this one helps you know the beast's story a little better. I like it a lot, especially the last bit.

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	8. Father: The Wood, Part 2

I have nothing to say, except that I am ashamed of keeping you waiting so long. I would be a tad bit more ashamed if that you was collective.

* * *

Father: The Wood, Part 2 

darling, dear-heart, why did you tell him that story  
I matured in fear of that awful wood  
only to face it bravely as a man  
why is the reason he should

dear-heart, darling, why did you tell her that story  
she is far too young to hear about that  
she was scared enough before you told  
now she's frightened of even the cat

beloved, bonny lass, why did you tell him that story  
you know I don't like it when you do  
you know the story is just pretend  
so why did you tell him it's true

bonny lass, beloved, why did you tell her that story  
you know it's only a fable, dear  
that in reality, it's only a forest  
can't you see it causes her to tear

* * *

I totally and completely own this character. Nobody else would take him, the spineless coward. So, even though you don't care, I'm going to tell you about him. He is, of course, Mother's husband, so I guess that explains things. I don't really care for either of them, but I can't stand Mother. Plus, they don't have the healthiest relationship. Yikes. He truly loved his wife once, but that has passed . . . you'll meet their children (whom I LOVE! despite obvious flaws in their upbringing making them into rather not-terribly-nice/wonderful people) 

Anyways.

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	9. Merzale: Castle

Oh my goodness me, I am the worst updater in the course of history. (hangs head)

I would like to dedicate this update to Gigi the Dancer, the new reviewer! (cheers wildly) I went and read your story and it was pretty, but I've never seen the Phantom of the Opera, so I think most of its loveliness was lost on me. "Garden" is one of my favorites too!

Thanks also to . . .

Scoutcraft Piratess (at least, that's who I think you are now. Are you done switching your name and confusing your poor stupid followers?) : That's why I like books where it switches point of view - because, really, perspective is half of the story.

Metaphorical: Thanks. Your stories are really well-written, too.

Ado is done. It is out the window. Whoo-hoo.

* * *

Merzale: Castle 

when I found the castle covered in vines  
surrounded by flowers, grass and pines  
I knew at once that it would be mine  
when a bird chirped, it was a sign  
when I saw flowers grow in a line  
I knew magic made this place fine  
the air was friendly, the breeze, benign  
when I found the castle covered in vines

when I entered the caslte with a star on the door  
I knew I would not be stranded anymore  
and so, with joy, I across the place tore  
I felt like a bird, I could really soar  
I would never again be ragged or poor  
somehow I felt complete there, for  
the magic misted around as in folklore  
when I entered the castle with a star on the door

* * *

Not really my favorite, but 'tis okay. Join the review revolution! (see my profile for details.) 


	10. Tousle: Only Children at Play

Okay. This is my first time updating after the "reply not in the story" thing started. So excuse the awkwardness.

I feel that you, my dear dear dear readers, should know that I have written 23 of these poems and have found myself quite stuck. The problem is that I wrote the 24th but lost it, and am having an impossible time recreating it. You need not be frightened, since this is 13 poems from now, but I thought you should know, because you are the only people besides me who jave read it.

Claimer: All ideas for this poem are MINE! (cue maniacal laughter)

So-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o, author note all finished. Onto what you actually care about.

* * *

Tousle: Only Children at Play  
around here, she wasn't treated well 

some children use to call her names

and laugh and say the most awful things

(milord, I do assure you, never mine)

when she ignored as she oft did

they pronounced her on par with the kings

they would laugh and tease her

until she started to cry

their parents never set them straight

and though, at the start

she was a lovable little kid

she began to know how to hate

and then one day

she up and left

(but not to my surprise

milord, I always knew

she needed love

there was something in her eyes)

* * *

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	11. Beast: Scream

Firstly/Formostly, I'd like to dedicate this chapter to my two new readers, Catakit (computers are dumb and the bane of our generation) and Aura of the Silver Tears (Thank you thank you thank you. That is near to the nicest thing anyone has ever said to me.)

Unfortunately and completely unintentionally, I have evidently lost some of you with this "Not-The-Format-You're-Used-To" thing. Allow to explain, using this chapter as an example.

Question Numero Uno: Who is talking? _Answer: Beast. See his 'name' in the title? He (or whoever is the 'poet') narrarates the whole poem. Every word is his. Even if the 'poet' is talking to someone, their words will not be in the poem.  
_Question Numero Dos: Who the heck is Tousle and who the heck is he talking to? _Answer: Um, you'll find that out later.  
_Question Numero Tres: Why are some poems better than others? _Answer: Sigh. Okay, I admit it. When I sit down to write a poem, it isn't always as cool on paper as it was in my head. Sometimes it isn't even cool in my head. My main goal is to tell the story and I can't rewrite poems without messing everything up, so I'm sorry, but you'll have to learn to be satisfied with this._

Just let me know if you're still unclear about anything.

I am awfully sorry that it's taken a month for this baby. Computer on the fritz.

WARNING: Angst and overall lack of correct grammar.

Claimer: It's all mine, except the original concept of the Beast.

* * *

Beast: Scream

I will never forget

the very first scream

so awful, it should've

been a dream

the poor girl recoiled

as she took in a face

then ran and ran

to a happier place

o, that I could run

from it as well

it gives me pain

I cannot tell

when I look in a mirror,

I find a tear in my eye

am I so ugly that

I would make myself cry

the only peace I get

is in a dream

I will never forget

the very first scream

* * *

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	12. Children: The Wood, Part 3

So-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o, I guess just one review is just deserts for being such a lousy updater. At least I took less than a month this time! (hopeful smile) Okay, fine, I'll admit it. I will always be a lousy, sucky updater because of my slightly amnestic tendencies. Awf'ly sorry. But MOVING ON . . .

Today, it is my great honor to introduce you to Jerome and Eva. Since you probably can't tell, I'll let you know that they are Mother and Father's children (that sounds so idiotic. I can't help it! They haven't got names!). Since some of you will pro'ly be confused (smacks head) the lines that start "o, Jerome" and the line after them are spoken by Eva, and the ones that start "o, Eva" and the line after _them_ are Jerome's. You, of course, all now know who says what (crosses fingers. hard.)

I'm in the middle of taking exams, so yep, life's a little nutso. My brain is _just barely_ alive! It is nearing cardiac arrest, I fear.

WARNING: Older brothers being older brothers, confusing lack of commas, periods, and dashes at the end of lines.

Claimer: Mine. ALL mine.

* * *

Children: The Wood, Part 3 

o, Jerome, ye keep 'way from there  
ye know what Mama and Papa said  
o, Eva, ye're as mousy as your hair  
ye even think monsters live under the bed  
o, Jerome, ye know that ain't so  
I'm as brave as they come, but when  
o, Eva, Papa always says "no"  
if ye canna be brave in danger, then  
o, hush, Jerome, did ye hear that sound  
sound powerful mean and big as the sun  
o, Eva, 'twas the stampin' of feet on ground  
there ain't nothing to be feared a – run

* * *

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	13. Merzale: Magic

Nope. I don't have an explanation. But, I'll try to do better? I love you Gigi! Don't leave me like everyone else! (sobs pathetically)

So I pretty much love this one. Actually, I pretty much love this grouping (They come in fours, if you didn't notice: Merzale-Tousle-Beast-Mother/Father/Children.) So enjoy.

Claimer: Merzale is mine. This poem is mine. YOUR WILL IS MINE.

* * *

Merzale: Magic 

there is a magic I can feel here  
that so oft feels to me so near  
sometimes it comes as a breeze  
sometimes it comes with a please  
as if it's asking me to see  
but it's all invisible to me  
there are days when I catch, out of my eye  
a shape, a blur, a whisper and a sigh  
it is not something I should fear  
there is a magic I can feel here

there is a magic here I can tell  
it touches the animals as well  
the birds' feathers are brighter  
the deer's tails, even whiter  
the horses prance with greater glee  
as if they are dancing for only me  
even the trees seem to grow higher  
everything is peace; there's no fire  
it touches all nature as well  
there is a magic here I can tell

* * *

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	14. Tousle: Magic

Nope. No explanations. But I shall do my absolute best to be a more reliable updater. How does that suit you?

Ah, Tousle. You're just too cool for words.

WARNING: The usual lack of puncuation.

Claimer: The characters and ideas contained in this poem are all belonging to me.

* * *

Tousle: Magic 

do I believe in magic, milord  
now that's an unusual question  
is not magic all 'round us  
you must be new 'round here  
we see magic day after day  
the fairies surround us  
some say they live in yonder wood  
but I've never seen them  
a load of codswallop, I say  
the fairies, they don't live anywhere  
milord, else they be invisible  
I ain't never seen a fey  
now take that girl you was asking 'bout  
the fire that took her parents  
it were fairy-made, for sure  
regular fires, milord, I know  
they don't cause animals to die  
yet not smolder their fur

* * *

I have to tell you that the fairy-fire has been part of the story all along, from the beginning when I didn't even know about Tousle or the Family or that poetry was going to be my medium. Codswallop is a word that is far too rare in our vocabulary. 

This is in the C2 "Best Fairy Tales on FanFiction." (smiles idiotically) Can you believe it?

My college graduate!sister had taken to calling me Angus. You can draw your own conclusions of the reasoning behind this.

Emmy, I can't reply to your comment if you don't log in. Though this is all for naught, you won't see this until summer's done.

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	15. Beast: Magic

I'm back! Well, kind of. I was never really gone, but whatever. I'm here with the new chapter, and because I don't like this one very much, I'm giving you two! Does that almost make up for it?

WARNING: Lack of punctuation, somewhat superfluous repetition and rhymes that are a bit on the shady side.

Claimer: Mine. Except for, perhaps, the image of a "beautiful enchantress."

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

Beast: Magic

magic caught me unawares  
I had not expected it  
it surprised and it alarmed  
I had not expected it  
it was a lady with golden hair  
I had not expected it  
from a lady with a gentle arm  
I had not expected it

magic took me by surprise  
I had not expected it  
what she appeared to be was a hitch  
I had not expected it  
if I had only used my eyes  
I had not expected it  
I would've seen her as she was, a witch  
I had not expected it

she told me that she had fixed me  
but I don't feel very fixed  
I think she really jinxed me  
but I feel rather mixed  
on the matter of magic  
I can say a whole pile  
when I think on magic  
I can say a whole mile  
but I'll never come to a close  
I'll never stop and say, "That's the end."  
but from my horns to my toes  
I know magic is not only pretend

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

Taw, poor Beastie. I'll understand any unsure feelings you have about this poem. If y'wish, you can just move on and pretend it didn't happen . . . or stare at it like it was a fifty car pile-up. The choice is yours.

By-the-bye, the page breaks seem to be on the fritz, so I had to think fast and use the hyphens instead.

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	16. Mother: Poor Children

Here, have a poem I am not ashamed of.

WARNING: Nasty, two-faced mothers ahead.

Claimer: Mother is mine, much to my displeasure. I really want to slap her.

----- ----- -----

Mother: Poor Children

o, you poor dears, children  
o, you poor dears!  
I told you to stay clear  
but you wouldn't listen  
o, you poor dears!

o, you poor loves, children  
o, you poor loves!  
heed now what you hear  
or your eyes will glisten  
o, you poor loves!

o, you poor innocent children  
o, you poor children!  
this will make you straight  
and teach you to obey  
o, you poor children!

o, you poor darlings, children  
o, you poor darlings!  
though this warning comes late  
there will be agony to pay  
o, you poor darlings!

----- ----- -----

I'm sure it doesn't take a very long time spent in her company to discover that she only means half of what she says. Gross.

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	17. Merzale: Change

When I stop sucking at updates, I'll let you know. Deal?

On the tippity-top side, I WROTE THE TWENTY-FOURTH POEM. It has taken me at least six months to do so, so I am reasonably bouncing off the walls. Hopefully I get started on the next set soon! And like, plottish things!

WARNING: Unexpected plot and expected lack of punctuation.

CLAIMER: Just Merzale this time, I fear.

DISCLAIMER: Methinks the yellow/golden rose is from Beauty (Robin McKinley)? Definitely could be wrong.

* * *

Merzale: Change

the day started out like any other day  
I woke up, got dressed in a normal way  
but when I entered the garden, I found  
a beast lying on the flower'd ground  
he was hurt, bleeding, groaning like a man  
and he held a yellow rose in his hand  
I asked the magic (nicely) to take him inside  
as he floated past, I placed a finger in his hide  
I'm not sure he will wake; I hope he may  
the day started out like any normal day

I go oft to see him in his room  
and a darkness seems to loom  
I wonder what he was doing here  
I wonder if I should be in fear  
for he looks fearsome and strong  
though appearances are often wrong  
I fret over him; I fear he may die  
I hope this is not where the beast will lie  
when he goes, may it not be his tomb  
I go often to see him in his room

* * *

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	18. Tousle: Hooded Cloak

Look! Look! It's Tousle, and he's amazing! And he's here to let you in a little bit to what's actually been going on.

WARNING: dropped syllables, dropped capitalization, dropped punctuation, and . . . hearing only one side of a conversation.

CLAIMER: Everything? Yeah, everything. How about that?

* * *

Tousle: Hooded Cloak 

yessir, there was a man  
who came to my shop yesterday  
wearing a hooded cloak  
he asked many questions  
'bout that orphan girl Merzale  
and 'bout other townsfolk  
well, I did think him a bit odd  
it's not exactly cold outside  
but I'm not paid, sir, to ask  
he talked like one of the court  
he was surely not from 'round here  
(didn't know flagon from flask)  
but he didn't seem like a wanted man  
though he seemed rather lost  
couldn't ye tell me, I'm just the 'tender –  
oh, I understands, sir  
ye got your job to keep  
but I ain't no gossip – else I surrender!

* * *

postscript: Now that's it's summer, I may or may not be posting more often. So there you go. 

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	19. Beast: Oblivian

Heh, heh. I mean, hello. Weh-ell, here we are. Um, seven months later. To be honest, I haven't been writing much lately, since senior year is just plain crazy. Plus, that whole I'm-unreliable thing hasn't changed. Anyway, I've returned to my beloved Place with No Mirrors at last, and where I am (five poems ahead, methinks) is kind of like "Part Two" or something. Really, the actual plot may be beginning soon.

I know that I'm unconventional and confusing and almost never update and aren't even that good all the time, so thank you for sticking with this story. I will return the favor by sticking with it as well.

WARNING: Lack of capitalization, and the usual vagueness.

CLAIMER: Yes, all mine! Except the cursed prince into beast thing. Yeah. I'm actually okay with claiming this one, because I like it (it's original, which is nice), especially the last two stanzas.

* * *

Beast: Oblivion 

it's unbelievable  
that I'm home once more  
I can't believe  
that I am home

it's unbelievable  
it's as it was before  
I can't believe  
I'm not alone

someone commanded the magic  
to carry me here  
and I sometimes hear movement  
next to my bed

someone commanded the magic  
and trailed me near  
and I sometimes hear movement  
feel a hand on my head

I'm just waking up  
I'm almost asleep  
I'm half-way between  
awake and in bed

carry on, brave soul  
no cause to weep  
I'm half-way between  
the living and dead

* * *

In case of (slash, in anticipation of) confusion, this is narrated by El Beast. Hurrah. 

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